


Alone With You

by Traviosita9124



Series: Song Fic [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy!Fitzsimmons, Casual Sex, F/M, Song fic, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:04:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4147593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traviosita9124/pseuds/Traviosita9124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how often he tells himself he needs to stop, Leo Fitz just can't bring himself to say no to Jemma Simmons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone With You

Leo Fitz is pulled from sleep by the text alert on his mobile. Groggy, and with unfocused eyes, he snatches it from his bedside table and unlocks the screen.

[Simmons]: _Home in 15. Meet me._

He glances at the time. It’s 1:30 in the morning, meaning she’s likely just left the Boiler Room. He knows he should stay put, should ignore the text and sink into the still-warm covers of his bed, but he just can’t. Instead, he leverages himself out of the small twin sized bed, shivering as his bare feet hit the cold floor.

He quickly pulls on the jeans he shucked off before bed, along with a clean henley and his well-worn Converse. Checking to make sure he has his wallet and keys, he locks his door behind him and makes his way to her dormitory.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He easily bypasses the security meant to keep men off her floor after midnight and knocks softly at her door.

Her response is nearly immediate, and as soon as the door opens, Simmons grabs his still-raised arm and drags him into her room. She presses herself to him, sealing her lips to his as she reaches past him to shut and lock the door. Her mouth is hot and insistent as she works her fingers under the hem of his shirt, her fingers burning trails of wanting across his lower stomach.

He helps her tug the shirt over his head, even as he feels his heart sink into his stomach. It always happens this way. It’s always after she’s been at the Boiler Room, when she’s had enough liquor to make her bold. Even now he can taste the rum on her, the same taste he’s come to associate with Jemma Simmons, a dark room, and frantic couplings.

He toes off his shoes and follows her as she tugs him to her bed by his belt loops, the ever-compliant Fitz. He helps her out of her sweater next, before attaching his lips to her neck, right over her pulse, and suckling at it in just the way she’s taught him as he unclasps her bra. He feels her shiver against him, and moves to undo her jeans, his male pride rushing in to cover for the fact that his heart breaks a little more each time they do this.

It started three months ago, just after fall finals. They had been celebrating at the Boiler Room, giddy with having completed their first semester at the Academy, and she had asked him to walk her home. She had claimed it was merely because there was safety in numbers, but when she leaned him up against her door and kissed him deeply, her true intent had become clear. Between bruising kisses, she outlined her intent: no-strings-attached sex with someone she knew she could trust, someone who could compartmentalize. She didn’t need any distractions, not after her last boyfriend had proven to be so clingy and jealous.

Simmons had been so intent on her plan, so convinced of its perfection, she had failed to notice that it had been Fitz’ first time.

But he’d wanted her, in truth, had wanted her since he’d met her, and so he’d gone along with it, happy to believe in the half-promise her body and soft moans made him while they lay between heated sheets.

But now, after all this time, it was clear that all it would bring him was more heartache.

Still, Fitz just can’t help himself, and so he eagerly skims her jeans, along with her knickers, down her legs, leaving her naked before him. He feels the breath whoosh out of his lungs at the sight of her, same as every other time. He feels a twinge of regret; he keeps hoping that the next time, he won’t feel that same sense of wonder and want that only she stirs up in him.

The thought barely has time to cross his mind, however, because Simmons has stepped back into him, sucking his lower lip into her mouth and nibbling at it as she undoes his jeans and pushes them off his hips. She turns them, moving to sit on her bed while he tugs off the rest of his clothing before joining her.

Her hand is hot on him, and his treacherous cock twitches in response to her ministrations. He gently grabs for her wrist, pulling her hand away as he encourages her to recline against the pillows. He moves over her, cradled by her hips, and kisses her once more before working his way down her neck, peppering her chest with nips and licks and kisses, before making his way between her thighs. He waits a moment, letting his breath wash over her so he can watch her hips arch, searching for his mouth.

It’s his only way to steal even a bit of the power in this situation.

When she moans his name, begging him to touch her, however, he complies and eagerly laps at her with the flat of his tongue. He loves this, the taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her as she falls apart against his lips. It’s also when he most wants to scream. He wants to demand how it is she doesn’t realize that he loves her, LOVES HER, and that’s why he’s here whenever she calls, eager to please and willing to do whatever she wants, not because he’s just another man who wants to slake his lust.

Tonight he can’t keep his anger and frustration from creeping into his actions, so instead of letting her finish, he pulls away abruptly, reaching for the stash of condoms she keeps in her bedside table and quickly rolling one on. Her eyes are confused for the briefest of moments, until he roughly thrusts into her and they roll back as she moans, loud and long, right into his ear.

He begins a punishing pace and maintains it, burying his face in her neck. He suckles at the skin there, harder than he really should, knowing how it excites her and not caring if he’s leaving love bites. It’s about time there be evidence of them in the daylight, and not just between the hours of 1 and 6 am.

He shifts his grip on her hips, lifting her slightly more so he can penetrate more deeply, and soon he feels her nails dig into his back as she breaks apart around him. His name has become a soft chant on her lips, and as he finds his own completion, he wonders if one day she’ll ever call him Leo instead of Fitz while he’s inside of her.

He eases her thighs down from where they’re wrapped around his ribs and carefully disengages from her, moving into the attached bathroom to dispose of the condom before slipping back into his boxers and handing her her knickers. He looks away as she slides them back up her legs, and moves to sit on the outside edge of the bed.

He’s looking to see where the rest of his discarded clothing is, contemplating how to best make his escape, when he feels her sit up and press against his back, chin hooked over his left shoulder. Her still-bare breasts are distracting, and he feels the heat in his lower belly reignite. He squeezes his eyes shut, nearly ashamed of how ready he always is for her, despite the pain it causes him each time.

She wraps a hand around his left bicep, tugging gently as she whispers in his ear, asking him to stay until morning. He follows her back to the mattress and curls around her at her direction, settling along the gentle curve of her spine, her head pillowed on his left arm as his right wrapped around her waist.

She drops off easily, the after effects of a night of drinking followed by vigorous sex.

Fitz takes longer. He feels sick to his stomach, torn between the exhilaration of being able to hold her like this and the dread at knowing she’ll cast him aside when she finds what she considers to be a viable romantic partner. He feels tears prick the corners of his eyes at the thought, and quickly squeezes them shut, biting his lip to keep from making a sound.

Perhaps it would be best if he actually confronted her, made her decide if he was her friend or her lover.

But that would mean risking losing her.

**  
So, he keeps quiet, and falls asleep surrounded by her scent, his heart barely held together.**

**Author's Note:**

> Story title is shamelessly stolen from Jake Owen's "Alone With You." Originally posted on my tumblr, I've decided to repost it here.


End file.
